


Trains, planes and automobiles...

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explosions, Friendship, Gen, Intrigue, Partnership, Spies & Secret Agents, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 13:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10663950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: Napoleon is waiting to pick up Illya and his charge who are traveling by train.  Things don't go to plan...





	Trains, planes and automobiles...

**Author's Note:**

> Posted for the PicFic Challenge on Live Journal and Dreamwidth. Most likely, there'll be sequel to this story.

“At least it’s a sunny day,” a man commented to the woman standing next to him on the train platform. He was well dressed in a grey suit and was casually rocking to and fro heel to toe, with his hands in in jacket pocket.

“Yes, thank goodness for that,” she replied.” I’ve never seen the northbound trains running this slow...and will you look at that.

She pointed to the train just sitting on the southbound side.” That’s been standing for at least forty-five minutes. Of course there’s no one here to even ask what’s going on!”

Napoleon had arrived there only fifteen minutes earlier to meet Illya who was on the train, coming back from an assignment in Washington D.C. Kuryakin was escorting an East German physicist. Napoleon was unaware of the apparent delay until the woman had mentioned it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to walk farther up the platform to have a smoke.” He smiled at her, but not flirtatiously as he needed to get away from her.

“Would you mind if I joined you? I left my cigarettes in my other purse,” the woman batted her eyelashes at him.

Normally when a woman did that Napoleon Solo would take it as his cue to chat her up in hopes of getting a date, and maybe more. Not today though.

“Sorry beautiful lady, I have only one cigarette left.”

She blushed. “That’s okay, I’m really trying to quit anyway.”

“Me too, but I haven’t had much luck, now if you’ll excuse me.”  

Napoleon did an about face, walking far enough away for her not to see what he was doing, and that was pulling and assembling his communicator.

“Open Channel D- Mr. Waverly please,” he spoke softly into the microphone.

“Hang on Napoleon,” the operator said. “Something’s going on.”

Minutes passed before the Old Man spoke with the sound of urgency in his voice.

“Mr. Solo you are to go to Richmond Virginia immediately by helicopter. There’s been a serious derailment of the train on which Mr. Kuryakin and Dr. Degner were traveling.”

Jonas Degner was a defector with a Phd. in physics. He was looked upon as an important asset to the German Democratic Republic, but he wanted out and had contacted U.N.C.L.E. for help.

Once he knew his wife and two children had escaped from East to West Germany with the assistance of UNCLE and were were safe, he made his escape. He did it on his own as he was under constant scrutiny, and any sign of him traveling even the shortest distance by car with persons unknown would have triggered an instant alert to the STASI, the GDR’s secret police.

Degner, having knowledge of the loop scavenging technique developed for _Motorrad und Zweiradwerk_ (German for motorcycle and two-wheeler factory). The doctor finally established a little pattern, as he been making regular trips in his little Trabant, the car that was often dubbed the a "spark plug with a roof. It was uncomfortable, slow, noisy, but it served him well.  

These frequent trips were made to different locations, all innocuous. They became routine and mundane,  eventually tricking the men shadowing Degner into becoming careless.

That was when he made his move, using that loop technique, finally driving his car from the Swedish GP to Denmark and West Germany

He did it without UNCLE’s knowledge or help, and it was a miracle that he managed it.He was a valuable asset to the GDR, and was rarely not followed by a STASI agent...then again living in East Germany, anyone and everyone would turn in their mother to protect themselves.

Solo arrived on the scene of the derailment in record time, landing the chopper in a nearby field. As he approached he had his gold UNCLE identification card, ready and it immediately gave him access to the area.

There were hundreds of casualties and they were still bringing the bodies of the living and the dead from the wreckage.  He quickly noted there had been signs of an explosion and immediately Napoleon suspected treachery.  He was able to obtain a copy of the full passenger list, though a list of the dead and injured was impossible as everything was pure chaos.

“Mr. Solo,” a police detective said.” All I know is everyone’s being taken to Retreat Doctors’ Hospital over on Grove Avenue. The dead are probably being taken to the city morgue.”

After getting quick directions to the hospital, Napoleon figured it was best to get out of the way and go in search of his partner and Degner. It was quicker to take the chopper than to try and hitch a ride.

He landed in a vacant portion of a parking lot, but he could see close to the hospital that it was nothing but a sea of ambulances and police cars. Apparently the facility was being closed off to the general public, unless it was a medical emergency of course.

As he exited the chopper, a policeman ran towards him waving him off.

“You can’t land that here Mister! No reporters allowed.”

“I’m not with the press officer. The name is Solo, Napoleon Solo and I’m with an organization called U.N.C.L.E. I’m here to search for a missing agent and the man he was escorting to New York City.”

The officer scrutinized the gold ID card, while lifting his hat and scratching his head. “I dunno, I never heard of this UNCLE.”

Napoleon took back his card. “Trust me officer, the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement is on your side.”

“Law enforcement? Oh I get it...UNCLE. Shoot, why didn’t you just say you were with the police. You can go on inside Mr. Solo.”

“Thank you officer for being on the ball.” Napoleon saluted him and turned on his heels, heading towards the hospital entrance.

Once inside, the scene was an organized frenzy, doctors and nurses moved quickly from patient to patient.  He’d not seen this much blood, nor heard so many moans and cries since his days in the army over in Korea, where he witnessed his first triage.

“Sir, excuse me, there’s no visitors allowed. If you think you have a family member here injured in the accident, then you have to go out to the main desk where we have the names on a master list of those brought in so far.”

She was formidable, an attractive dark haired woman who stood a little taller than he did.

“Thank you Nurse,” he flashed his identification, as well as a charming smile.

“Oh... well, are you looking for someone? Maybe I could help you?” She returned his smile with one of her own,  though Napoleon could see the stress in her hazel eyes.

He pulled out a photograph of Illya and passed it to her.

“Oh I remember him. Cute but very combative. What a terror! We finally had to sedate him as he knocked out one of the orderlies. He kept saying he had to go.”

“ Thank you Nurse…?”

“Hooper, Patty Hooper. Mr. Solo.”

“Well Nurse Hooper, his name is Illya Kuryakin and he’s a member of my organization, specifically he’s my partner. He was travelling with a German man named Degner.”

“Sorry I only remember your friend. Let me call to find out his room number.”

Ten minutes later Napoleon was standing at his partner’s bedside. Illya was still asleep thanks to the sedative.  This explained why he wasn’t answering his communicator.

He studied Illya’s face, and other than a few scratches on his forehead, he looked peaceful and placid. It always amazed him how youthful and innocent Illya looked while sleeping. No wonder the ladies at headquarters wanted to mother the man, sometimes the guy looked like such a kid. Thankfully his partner only suffered a broken arm and leg, minor in comparison to what injuries Illya had in the past suffered while on assignment.

Solo pulled his communicator, “Open Channel D-Waverly.”

“What have you to report?” The Old Man didn’t sound happy. Surely he couldn’t be that angry about this situation, especially since it was unforeseen and probably unavoidable?

“Sir, I’m with Mr. Kuryakin now. He’s been sedated, having suffered some broken bones. I’ve been unable to locate Doctor Degner as of yet.”

Waverly huffed. “Dammit man, stop sitting vigil at Kuryakin’s bedside and get on with finding the Doctor.”

“Yes sir. Mr. Waverly sir...are you all right?”

The Old Man was caught off guard. “Well, ahem...yes. Mr. Solo this is not the only incident to cross my desk today. It seems there is something going wrong in in multiple locations within our jurisdiction in the clandestine world. Now please Napoleon find the professor, and quickly? Out.”

Napoleon whistled, he hadn’t heard the Old Man that angry in quite some time.

There was a moan from the bed just as Napoleon pocketed his communicator.

A pair of blue eyes opened, blinking a few times before they focused.

“Napoleon?” Illya’s voice was hoarse.

“Hang on,” Solo poured a glass of water and helped his partner raise his head to drink. “Gave us quite a scare tovarisch.”

“I assure you this was not my my doing.”

“And no one thought it was. That being said, there looked to be signs of an explosion at the site of the derailment. Someone after Degner?

“Perhaps.There was a definite explosion; it came from the front of the train. Still if it was to kill the professor, that would be a round about and inaccurate method to do so. No one knew he would be on the train but myself, Mr. Waverly, and you I presume.”

“And you are presuming correctly.

There was a knock at the door, and a nurse entered holding a piece of paper. “Mr. Solo, Nurse Hooper sent this up for you. It’s a list of everyone brought here to the hospital, as the last of the casualties have arrived.”

“Thank you,” Napoleon nodded, immediately scanning the list, not finding what he was looking for. He smiled to himself, as Nurse Hooper's telephone number and a note to "call me' had been jotted down on the paper as well.

“Now here’s the million dollar question Illya. Where is Jonas Degner? They have no record of him here at the hospital.”

“Napoleon, he was sitting next to me when all hell broke loose, that is all I remember.”

Solo knew what that meant. It was time to check the morgue.  He left, knowing his partner was in good hands and after locating the coroner’s office, he went there. Still he came up empty handed.

Days passed and the cause of the derailment was found to be a collision with a truck carrying propane tanks, so nothing nefarious after all. It was just a terrible accident that injured nearly fifty people, and killed another ten.

It was finally time to leave and Napoleon surrendered the chopper to an agent from the Washington office, in exchange for a car.

After picking Illya up at the hospital they headed out for New York. The ride would usually take under seven hours driving straight through, but they’d have to make a few rest stops, as well as to get some food. Illya was adamant about it, and cranky. He was annoyed that they couldn’t take the chopper, but it was apparently needed elsewhere.

Taking the wheelchair provided by the hospital in and out of the car’s trunk took up extra time and effort as well, and Kuryakin wasn’t too happy being confined to it either.

Illya’s insistence on stopping for food was proof enough to Napoleon that his partner was feeling better physically, but he could tell something else was bothering the Russian.

He watched as his usually ravenous partner picked at his french fries and hamburger, eating but not with his usual enthusiasm.

“Something’s bugging you, out with it?” Napoleon said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Tsk. I guess I am being that obvious. It is the matter of me losing Jonas Degner.”

“You didn’t lose him tovarisch. Since he didn’t show up at the hospital or the morgue, he had to have left you. Personally it’s my guess he was scared off, thinking the whole incident of the explosion and derailment were to get rid of him. If I were in his place, I would have thought that and gone to ground. He’s aware the STASI and KGB have long arms, you know that all too well yourself.”

Illya snorted his derision but said no more. What Napoleon said made sense but he still felt responsible for Degner’s safety. As far as Kuryakin was concerned, he’d failed miserably at this assignment.

They got back on the road and arrived at headquarter in the late afternoon, but entered via the entrance at the end of the block at the Masque Club, as there was easier access to an elevator. After navigating the maze of corridors leading to reception, they received their badges and proceeded to Waverly’s conference room.

To their surprise when the doors opened, there stood Jonas Degner, alive and well.

“Why did you not let us know?” Illya blurted to Waverly.

“Because young man, Dr. Degner just arrived moments before you did. It seems he is quite the resourceful man, managing to lay low and make his way here. If he wasn't such a valuable scientist, I might consider him to be a field agent," Waverly gave a little chuckle.

“Thank you Mr. Waverly. I was able to convince a local pilot to fly me to a small airport in Linden New Jersey and from there I obtained a taxi to take me here, And thank you for paying sir, I did not hav enough American money on me. I do apologize Mr. Kuryakin for the trouble I have no doubt put you through, After the accident, you were laying there unconscious; I knew you were not terribly injured and I feared it was all my fault. I believed the STASI had found me, and I fled. I did pull you out of the wreckage before I left, just to make sure you were safe.”

“It seems Dr. Degner is going to be quite an asset gentlemen,” Waverly cleared his throat. “He has agreed to come work for U.N.C.L.E. though of course we will be sharing certain information with our other members, not that they’ll know it’s from the good Professor here. Going forward you will most likely be working with him in the labs Mr. Kuryakin.”

“So all’s well that ends well,” Napoleon winked at his partner.

“For once that is a very true statement.” Now if you could be so good as to wheel me up to Medical, as I am required to let them give me, as they put it, a once over.”

“My pleasure.” Napoleon saluted, and navigated the wheelchair with his partner out the door after he and Illya said their farewells to Jonas Degner... for now.


End file.
